Regrets
by The Lady Tigress
Summary: On a lonely night Kenshin remembers his past, and tries to come to terms with the regrets that the life as a hitokiri brings.


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Regrets

The Lady Tiger

The flash of the blade. The scream of pain, cut off abruptly, permanently. The waterfall of red, staining both body and spirit. The almost…glee.

NO!

I awaken, sweating and frightened. A dream. A dream of what used to be. Of how _I_ used to be. I sigh, and stretch, knowing that sleep will be futile for me tonight.

Memories. No matter how hard I attempt to repent, no matter how much good I think I do, or how long I try to change, I will always have my memories.

I close my eyes, and for once I willing let the images of the past appear. Eleven years of wandering cannot dull my mind's eye of those days. I remember every face of every man that I have cut down. Those looks of pain and horror will forever be etched into the glass of my mind. I remember the first man and the last. 

It's said that the Hitokiri Battousai has killed over a thousand men. Well, perhaps not that many, but enough that more then a small portion of myself has been lost in those days. Shishou was right when he said that I was trapped between a hitokiri of a child, and a pacifist man. With every man I killed I also killed a little of myself. Because of this I could never become the man that I was meant to be. My soul died a little with every flash of my blade, and no matter how strong I become, or how solid the peace of these days, I can never regain that what was washed away by the blood of so many men.

Peace. That's what it was all for. Wasn't it? Wasn't it for peace that all the blood was spilt, and all those lives lost? Wasn't it for the children of the future that those same children lost those they loved, their fathers and their brothers, their uncles and their grandfathers? But is there really peace now? It wasn't all in vain…was it?

I look back farther into my memories and recall a small boy named Shinta walking at the back of a slave caravan, happy despite his misfortune. That young child had faced sickness and death, pain and slavery, and yet he still found happiness and kindness in the hearts of three gentle women. Three women who willingly and knowingly, gladly gave up their lives for him. And why? So that he could choose his life, his future, his path.

I grimace at that memory. Did I choose the life, the path that they thought I would? I wonder that if they knew what I would do, what I would become, would they have still saved me?

I regret the life that I chose. I regret the paths that I have walked. My intentions were good, and pure, but now I wonder if pure intentions are enough. People were oppressed and hurting back then. Are they still? Yes, some of them. Men in positions of power were corrupt and evil. Are they still? Yes, some of them. It has not changed. So what was it all for? Why did those men die if nothing has changed? Why? What was it for?

Suddenly, my ears pick up a small sound outside of the privacy screen to my room. Instinctively my hand tightens on my sakabatou before realizing that there is no need. It is only Sazume, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She and Ayame have stayed here for the night while Doctor Gensai is visiting another town.

"Ken-nii san? I had a bad dream. A monster was trying to get me." 

I open my arms and the little girl slips into them, asleep again in minutes. I look down at the small miracle cradled against me, trusting herself to my hands to keep her safe. Hands that have shed the blood of countless men. My name still brings fear to the hearts of the bravest of soldiers, yet this one small, fragile person willing, and without fear, sleeps nestled up against me. I smile a little sadly, but my heart feels lighter. 

Perhaps this is why. Perhaps this is what it was all for. A picture flashes across my mind of a woman-child fearlessly wielding a bokken against the Hitokiri Battousai. This could not have happened eleven years ago; the woman-child would have been put to death for touching a samurai's weapon, and learning the warrior's craft. 

Another image, this time of a young boy of twelve enters my thoughts. With his head held high, and eyes shining with a samurai's pride he faces down seven members of the former shogunate, and against all odds, claims victory. Years ago this small boy, despite his age, would have faced instant death for raising a weapon against one of the high caste. 

A woman, shrouded in despair and pain, accepts her fate to repent for the lives that she has inadvertently taken, by swearing to save others through her medicine craft. These images and more flash through my mind quickly, one after the other. 

Is this what it was all for? Is this why the skies of Kyoto burned red eleven years ago? I look back down at the child snuggled tightly in my arms, and for the first time since this night of memories began, smile fully and without sadness. 

Yes. I think that this is what it was all for. I think that this is why so many men had to die. They died so that the children of this time and place could choose the path of their own lives, much as three brave women died for one small boy all those many long years ago. Perhaps the men never knew who they were protecting, but the end result seems to be the same. A child living, and able to choose her own path, and her own future. And not just her future, her path, but the future of her children and grandchildren as well. This is what it must have all been for. 

I smile and close my eyes, prepared to sleep again and face the memories. Perhaps this time I can see the 'why' of those days, and well as the 'how.'

Do I have regrets? Yes. I regret that it was my sword that ended so many lives, and caused so much sadness, not only in the men I killed, but also among the families who would never again see their loved ones. 

Do I regret? Yes. But I also know that I would regret even more if I had done nothing, and the times had not changed. I brought about a new era with the steel of my sword, and while I do mourn for those lost, I am content in knowing that for the child sleeping in my arms the future will be a better place. Will it be perfect? No. But I will keep fighting to try and make it so…this time without spilling blood.

I have regrets. But if given the chance, I would go back…and change nothing. I can live with regrets. Because now I can also live with peace.

Settling back, I close my eyes and let myself sleep again.

Author's note and Standard Disclaimer: No, I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. I thought of this little night scene because I was reading an angst story that focused on the pain of Kenshin's past, and I began wondering if he had the chance, would he go back and change anything? I don't think he would, because although he did cause a lot of pain, he also did a lot of good, and I think that outweighs the hurts. So, anyway, let me know what you think. Translation? PLEASE REVIEW! Good, bad, or ugly, please let me know how I did, as well as what you think about the scenario. Do you think he would change his past, or not? Well, thanks for reading. I hope to see you again soon! Ja ne!

Rachel, The Lady Tiger


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